“Well, that was fun,” said Zac.
“Fun it might have been,” said Christensen, “but we may just have created a problem that we will live to regret.”
An hour later, as the council meeting broke up, Lance quietly asked Zac and Christensen to remain behind. When they were alone, he said, “I think it might be helpful if I provide some background information about Dr Wisecroft.” He looked at both of them for a moment. “I feel a little uneasy about this, but I think it’s important for the sake of our mission that you understand why he sometimes acts the way he does.”
“We will treat whatever you have to say with the strictest confidentiality,” said Christensen.
“Thank you.” Lance paused to gather his thoughts. “Simon and I went to the same school together. It was a Kindergarten to Year 12 private college in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. He began attending our school in Year 4, at the age of nine. He was newly adopted by our principal and his wife, Mr and Mrs Wisecroft. They had been unable to have children, so they adopted him from a local orphanage. They chose him over younger children because the orphanage had identified him as being intellectually gifted. No one knows anything about his birth parents, because he had been dumped on the orphanage doorstep as a baby.”
“Sadly, Mrs Wisecroft died of pneumonia just six months after his adoption, leaving Mr Wisecroft to raise him alone. Mr Wisecroft was an aloof intellectual. He showed no emotion and gave Simon no love. Simon always referred to him as ‘sir’, even privately, and Mr Wisecroft seemed to treat Simon more harshly than the other students—as though he was trying to avoid showing favouritism. I also know that Mr Wisecroft used physical discipline on Simon at home. Simon would sometimes come to school with welts across the backs of his legs.
“The other students all called Simon ‘orphy’, and he was teased incessantly. I felt sorry for him and tried to be nice to him. I guess I was his only friend, but it was difficult. He has always been pathologically insecure and needy. He should have topped our College in Year 12, except several assessments in his final year were very harshly marked by Mr Wisecroft. Everyone knew he was the brightest student in the school.”
“He and I ended up at the same university. He went on to complete a doctorate in physics, and I stumbled through a degree in engineering. Unfortunately, Simon never seemed to be able to make friends. His deep-seated insecurity caused him to interpret even the most innocent comment or action as a personal attack. His constant need to prove himself drove people away, and by then his narcissism had reached pathological proportions. Everything was about him, and he was unable to consider the feelings and opinions of others.
“I kept in contact from time to time, meeting up with him for a beer at the local pub and going out to dinner with him on his birthday. But I was his only friend, and by then Mr. Wisecroft had passed away.
“Years later, when Simon was appointed as head of the Armstrong Research Facility, I got a call from him, asking if I would be interested in the role of Command Centre Coordinator. To this day, I think I am Simon’s only friend. Although ‘friend’ is probably too strong a word. He is incapable of emotional warmth, and I simply feel sorry for him.”
Lance paused for a moment. “I guess what I’m saying is that Simon isn’t a bad person; he is just deeply wounded. It was difficult for me to vote against him today, and I am sure that that will be the end of whatever friendship we had, but I felt I had to vote the way I did for the sake of the mission. Simon simply isn’t the right person to be helping to guide the new colony.”
“Thank you, Lance,” said Christensen. “I appreciate your honesty. That certainly does put things into perspective for us.”
“But it doesn’t change our resolve about our decision to remove him from the council,” said Zac.
“No,” agreed Christensen. “If anything, it strengthens it. I think we will need to be very careful in our future dealings with Simon.”
32
It was lunch on Mission Day 9 when things came to a head between Jaz and Zac. Jaz came to lunch late, and the only remaining empty chair was the one next to Zac. She appeared frozen for a few moments, then steeled herself and sat next to him. Zac, who had been joining in the conversation a few moments earlier, fell silent. A tangible awkwardness prevailed, which put a dampener on the mood of the whole group. A few minutes later, Zac excused himself and left, even though he had barely eaten half his lunch. Jaz bowed her head and appeared to become even more miserable, if that was possible.
“I can’t take this anymore!” exclaimed Martinez, throwing her napkin down on the table in disgust. She stood up and walked off, leaving the rest of the group open-mouthed.
“What was that all about?” asked Kit.
“The girl’s got a bee in her bonnet about something,” muttered Grizzle.
Martinez found Zac in his cabin, with his door open. He was sitting on his bunk, hunched over, staring at the floor.
Martinez walked in and stood in front of him. Zac looked up in surprise and said, “Hey.”
She stood there, looking down at him, not saying anything.
“Martinez? What are you doing here?”
Her eyes drilled holes into him, but still she didn’t speak, seemingly undergoing some kind of internal argument with herself.
“Listen,” said Zac, “I don’t know what ...”
“Your wife was having an affair with Wisecroft.”
“What?”
“You heard me. They were bonking each other’s brains out.”
“That’s not possible. She wouldn’t ...”
“She would, and she did.”
“But how would you ...”
“Know? I was 2IC of security. I got to know all the sordid details of what was happening on the base.”
Zac’s mind was reeling. He looked up at Martinez in bewilderment. “How ... how long?”
“At least two years, that I know of.”
Zac was shell-shocked. He shook his head, trying to process the information.
Martinez asked, “Have you ever wondered why Wisecroft brought only you to the base, and not the family members of the other missing staff? It was because he was desperate to find his lover before she did something stupid, and he thought the simple, cuckolded husband could help.”
Her words struck him like blows. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words came out.
“You’re being faithful to a fantasy. She was never the wife you thought she was. Wake up, Doc, and start living. You’re making the rest of us miserable.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving Zac stunned.
He thought back again over his brief married life, looking for signs of unfaithfulness he might have missed. He replayed scenes in his mind, trying to spot clues that had gone unnoticed. There had been no obvious unhappiness. No arguing or conflict. But, on the other hand, he had to admit that there had not been a deep level of intimacy. They had seemed to exist at a comfortable, superficial level. He’d put it down to how busy they both were with their respective careers, but now he realised that Annisa had never really pursued a deep connection with him, even when they were dating. She had not offered herself to him at any deep emotional level and had not expected anything more from him in return. Did she ever really love me at all? He would never know for sure, but it seemed pretty clear that he had been used from the very start.
Knowing that he had been played for a fool from the very start—by a woman who was not only a secret terrorist but also happy to cheat on him with the likes of Wisecroft—was a crushing blow to his ego. He felt humiliated and angry. As he dwelt on his humiliation, the anger grew within him, feeding upon itself like a brewing storm. Finally, he leapt to his feet and rushed out of his room, with one clear purpose in mind. He would find that miserable bastard, Wisecroft, in whatever corner of the ship he was grovelling, and he would beat him to a pulp. Zac had never been a violent man, but now the need for vengeance consumed him. Somehow, the revelation of his betrayal had unlea
shed a pent-up reservoir of anger and hurt that he had not known was there. It rose up within him and took control. All reason abandoned him, and he strode down the corridor towards the lifts, lost in a red haze of fury.
He was halfway down the corridor when one of the lifts opened and Keo stepped out. He walked forward and blocked the corridor, with arms held wide. “Whoa there, brother. Where are you off to?”
“Out of my way, Keo.”
“I don’t think so, my friend.”
“I said get out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No chance of me getting out of your way, and no chance of you hurting me, anyway,” said the big man, standing his ground. “Where are you going?”
Zac stood in front of Keo and said, “I’m ... I’m going for a walk.”
“Looks to me like you had a different kind of exercise in mind, bro,” Keo said with eyebrows raised. “I don’t think you want to see the venerable Dr Wisecroft right now. That wouldn’t be wise.”
“How did you ...?”
“Martinez told me. She’s worried about you. Looks like I got here just in time.”
“You don’t understand. He needs to be ... I need to ...”
“I know exactly what you need right now, and it’s not a conviction for assault. You’re coming with me, my friend. Dr Keo has the perfect prescription for what ails you.” He gripped Zac’s arm in his huge hand and led him back towards the lifts.
An hour and a half later, the two of them sat side by side on a weight bench in the gym, dripping with sweat after an intense workout. Zac had run for an hour straight on the treadmill, at 16 kilometres per hour. Now he was spent, and he sat panting and exhausted beside his friend.
“What am I meant to do, Keo?”
“Move forward.”
“But Wisecroft should pay for what he did to me.”
“He will, bro. God sees all. He will judge everyone in the end.”
“But he should pay now.”
““He who seeks revenge, should dig two graves.” Douglas Horton. You will end up hurting yourself more than you hurt him. Seeking revenge will simply twist your own soul into a knot. Instead of setting you free, it will enslave you.”
Zac sat hunched over, staring at the ground and shaking his head. “I’m a complete fool. I thought she loved me. But it turns out, she was just using me. She was playing me the whole time. What does that say about me?”
“It says nothing at all about you, Zac. Her deceit and manipulation are a commentary on her soul, not yours.”
“So, am I expected to just pretend nothing happened? Is that it?”
“He who is focused on the hurts of the past can’t see the good that is front of him in the present.”
“Who said that?”
“Me. Just then. I think I should write a book.”
Keo looked at Zac. “She didn’t just play you. She played Wisecroft, too.”
“I suppose so.”
“There’s no ‘supposing’ about it, bro. She clearly had an agenda, and Wisecroft was simply a means to an end. By literally getting into bed with him, she almost certainly got access to intel she would not otherwise have had, and probably got greater access to restricted areas of the base as well. In that sense, Wisecroft is just as much a victim here as you.”
“I can’t accept that,” said Zac. “He knew what he was doing. He may not have known that Annisa was using him, but he certainly knew he was screwing someone else’s wife.”
“Yes,” agreed Keo. “He is clearly a morally weak man. But trying to take revenge on him will only poison your own soul.”
They sat for a while in silence, then Keo said, “Zac, the past is dead. It’s gone. You can learn from it, but you can’t live in it. “Life must be understood backward, but it must be lived forward.” Soren Kierkegaard. The present is where life is. The present is where love is. And love is staring you in the face. Don’t miss out on what’s real now, because of what was fake in the past.” He stood up. “And by the way, you need a shower, bro. You stink.”
33
Jasmine and Melody were tidying up the med clinic after the afternoon training session, rolling up bandages and stacking chairs in the triage holding area. A volunteer who was doing a shift as a nurse came in and said, “Jaz, before you go, can you see one more patient. He’s in cubicle two.”
Jaz breathed out a sigh, and said, “OK, Jan. I’ll be there in a second. Mel, you can use the terminal at the nurses’ station to do your homework while you’re waiting.”
“Do I have to? Can’t I come and help you?”
“No. And I want to see at least two more lines of that theorem on your page by the time I get back.”
Jaz walked briskly down the hall, pulled back the curtain to cubicle two and started to enter, then stopped dead. “Zac.” He was sitting on the side of the bed.
“Yep. It’s me all right.”
“Is something wrong?” she asked, concern now in her voice.
“It’s my eyes. I can’t see properly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Cloudy vision. I can see around the edges, but I can’t see what’s right in front of me.”
Jaz moved forward and stood in front of him, concern now written on her face. She took a pencil torch out of her pocket and said, “Look up at me.” She checked both pupil reflexes. “Now look to the left. Now right. Now follow my finger.” She took a step back and said, “Zac, your eyes seem fine.”
“Yes, I know. I haven’t been able to see properly for about ten days, but they’re better now.” He stood up and took a step towards her. “I’m not sure what the medical term is for temporary blindness, but I think that’s what I’ve had.”
“Amaurosis fugax,” she said.
“Yep, that’s it. That’s what I’ve had.”
The beginning of a smile curled the corner of Jaz’s mouth. “And what do you think caused it?”
“Temporary insanity,” he replied.
“A transient loss of cognitive reasoning and an episodic break with reality,” she interpreted.
“Yep, that’s the one. Plus, I was looking at things in the past that turn out to have been completely false.”
“Hallucinations and psychotic delusions. Zac, you’re a mess,” she said, struggling to hold her smile in. Her heart was racing, and she was feeling light-headed. “In fact, I’ve never had a patient with so many problems all at once.”
“What’s the treatment doc? Is there any hope for me?”
“There’s a slim chance of recovery, but you’ll have to undergo radical therapy.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes. What’s first?”
“I think a complete lobotomy is in order. Followed by an enema. And then maybe a heart transplant—without anaesthetic.”
“Ouch! Was I that bad?”
She grew serious. “You really hurt me, Zac.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I never want to do that again. Ever. I care for you more than anyone else in the world.”
“That’s not saying much. There aren’t many people left in the world.”
“Yeh, but first out of 560 is still pretty good,” he said with a cheeky smile. He reached out and held both her hands. “Jaz, I’ve been blind and stupid and weighed down with false guilt. But now I can see what’s been staring me in the face the whole time.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to be with you, Jaz.”
She stared into his eyes and whispered softly, “I want to be with you, too.”
“Are you guys going to kiss now?” asked Melody, standing at the entrance to the cubicle.
“I really hope so,” said Zac.
“How long have you been standing there, young lady?” asked Jaz.
“A while. Can I watch?”
“No!” said Jaz. “Step outside and draw the curtain!”
“OK. But I’ll be listening, so don’t make it too sloppy. You don’t want to corrupt me—I’m just a kid.”
It wasn
’t particularly sloppy.
But it was a rather long one.
34
The conversation among the colonists over the next few days centred around their impending cryogenic stasis, or the ‘Big Sleep’, as it was now being called. Who would opt to go to sleep immediately and who would wait for another two weeks? Surprisingly, quite a few were deciding to go to sleep at the first opportunity. Their reasoning was that they were keen to get to their new home as soon as possible, and the sooner you slept, the sooner it would seem like you had arrived. Prior to their reconciliation, both Zac and Jaz had secretly decided to choose early sleep, simply to end their pain. Now, however, that option wasn’t even on their radar. They wanted to spend as much waking time together as possible before their enforced sleep.
Their newfound love and obvious happiness were a great relief to everyone. Not that it was ever going to be a secret, because that very night at dinner, Melody had proudly announced, “Hey everyone, Zac and Jaz were kissing in the med bay! They’re in love.” Keo had simply responded, “Excellent. Pass me the salt please, Possum.” And that was all that was said.
After dinner on Mission Day 12, an information session on the upcoming Big Sleep was held in the dining room, with the session streamed to the public screens on other levels as well. The purpose was to alleviate people’s natural fears and to inform them of what to expect. Captain Christensen introduced the head of cryogenics, Dr Regina Boyle, a woman in her early 40s with long, grey-streaked dark hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Firstly, let me assure you of two things,” she began. “The procedure is completely safe, and at no point will you feel any discomfort. In fact, it will be an overwhelmingly pleasant experience, because of the cocktail of drugs that you will be given.”
Kit said to the group, “I wish I could be there to watch Zac go under; that could be quite entertaining!”
Dr Boyle continued, “Cryogenic stasis works by significantly reducing many of your body’s metabolic functions and completely ceasing others. The entire process is completely automated. When you step into your sleep pod, an intravenous line will be robotically connected, and 30 seconds later you will be sound asleep, having been administered a sedative. The next thing you will be aware of will be waking up in approximately 40 years’ time, having aged only two years. When cryogenic stasis was first introduced 50 years ago, the waking process was quite unpleasant. Extreme cold, uncontrollable shaking, temporary blindness, joint pain, muscle pain and abdominal cramps. You will not experience any of that. You will be kept sedated for a period of 48 hours as your body systems are reactivated. By the time you regain consciousness, all the unpleasant side effects of waking from a 40-year stasis will have passed. You will feel entirely comfortable, if a little weak. You may also experience some disorientation and confusion when you first wake, but this should pass very quickly.”
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